Sleight of Hand
by Quickbrightthings
Summary: JA, Post Headless Witch in the Woods, A twist on the 'ghost in the machine'


**Sleight of Hand**

J/A, Post "Headless Witch in the Woods"

A/N - Just something I had hanging around on my computer that I finally had time to finish. Would love to hear what you think of it. :)

Disclaimer: Not mine, no infringement intended.**  
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_"__Love must be learned and learned again and again. There is no end to it."_  
-_Katherine Anne Porter_

Angela lay in the darkness, feeling both warm and wide awake. She shifted slightly, feeling muscles twinge and the thin film of sweat that had dried on her skin. She should be completely exhausted, but sleep eluded her at the moment. For all that she had loved to move from place to place in the past, she never could sleep well in a new bed right away. It was a thousand little things; the feel of the sheets, the air in the room, the creaks and noises of the building. This time there were also one or two big things on her mind. For one, the graphic film she had been reviewing for this case that had disturbed her beyond all reasoning. The other was the warm body next to her, the man she had spent most of the evening getting to know, in every carnal aspect of the word. She wasn't sure which was weighing on her mind more at the moment.

Staring up at the ceiling, she decided to tackle the first problem. In many respects, her view of every case was much more personalized than anyone else's in the lab, save maybe Booth's. She didn't get to deal with objects, she dealt with images and with faces. Faces that came to life again through her mind and her hands. She had struggled with her emotions in the past, but had decided to stick with it rather than pulling up stakes and starting over again in a new place. It was a challenge to fight her impulse to wander, but she now felt that her work was too important to give up on.

But this time, it was more than just an image. It was hours of images, waves of fear and terror from real people. She wasn't particularly squeamish; she couldn't be given where she worked. She had even liked horror movies before, though she doubted she'd be seeing one again anytime soon. Scaring one's self silly watching some knife-wielding actor in a hockey mask chase after teenagers foolish enough to break the cardinal movie "rules" was just a cheap thrill. And once he caught them and created rivers of fake corn-syrup blood dyed a vivid scarlet with red dye #40, it was never this frightening. Then she knew that when the camera cut, everyone walked away and went on with their lives.

This had been real... more like a fabled snuff film than anything else. The screams still echoed in her head. When Jack had first walked in her office, scaring the hell out of her, the terror she had felt yielded slightly to his mischievious eyes and warm smile. And when he had sat down next to her, she couldn't help holding on to him, wrapping her hands around his strong wrist. Relying on his strength when hers was running on empty. And he had stayed, long after they had identified the location, keeping her company as the images passed. At one point, he had even dug up a bowl of popcorn. She appreciated the effort, his trying to keep the situation light, as if they were only watching a movie and not stark reality.

Eventually, the realities of the lab pulled him away, but his company had given her enough distance to continue cataloging footage. What Jack turned up back at his microscope, however, sent a cold wave of a different type of fear down her back. Instead of the imaginary monsters lurking in the dark, it had turned out that the monster in this case was an ordinary-enough-looking man who was currently having dinner with her best friend. At a romantic little restaurant she had recommended earlier this afternoon, no less. She saw the mixed emotions on Booth's face mirroring her own thoughts; fear for Brennan's safety and pain that they were going to have to be a part of breaking Tempe's heart yet again. But there was nothing for it, Bren would see the truth in their work as soon as she saw the evidence. She could only hope that Brennan wouldn't lock up her heart and throw away the key after this. Not after all the progress she had made so far.

But, while the truth turned out to be more conventional than expected, she couldn't shake the hours of images that had marked the death of a man at his brother's hands and the turning point of three other lives in the woods. While the setup may have turned out to be staged, the screams and the terror captured on the tape had been real. Watching it had left her a mess of stress and unfounded fears, born of knowing what truly lurks in the dark.

So, hours later, after she knew Brennan was safe from the clutches of a real-life axe murderer and once Jack had walked away to finish his paperwork on the flame retardant residue, she pulled up her latest rendering and added some convincing shadows to the last few frames before starting the graphics run. Not much, just a little electronic sleight of hand. She didn't mind pulling a silly, scared girl act. Her pride was the last thing she was worried about tonight. She just wanted desperately not to be alone. She supposed she could have just asked him if she could come home with him, but that would lead to confusion about what she wanted tonight, and what she had wanted most in the world right then was just to feel safe and comforted.

She followed Jack's red Mini Cooper through miles of wooded parkway, up a long stone driveway, to his house at the top of the hill. The weather had turned from the morning's rare autumn warmth and there was a chill in the air. An awkward silence descended as they had climbed the steps to the front door. Jack let them into the foyer and turned to face her.

"So," he began slowly, hands in his pants pockets, "There's plenty of movies in the media room, if you want to stay up for a while. Or books in the library, if you want to read... just skip the left wall, that's where all the bug and slime journals live. Or if you just want a hot bath and bed, I can show you straight to the guest suite." He paused for a moment. "If you want company for any or all of the above, I'm all yours, Baby."

She couldn't seem to bring herself to answer. The events of the day had drained her, leaving her feeling empty and cold.

"Angela?," he questioned softly. When she didn't answer again, he reached up to cup her face in his hand. "You'll be safe here tonight, I promise." He kissed her gently, and a shiver went down her back. Suddenly comfort wasn't enough for her. She wanted to feel alive, to wipe everything away and live in the moment, in pure sensation. She reached up, tangling her hand in his curls, deepened the kiss, and let it all fall away.

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She lay in bed, turning on her side to face him. Still asleep, she found him beautiful in repose. Her hands itched for her charcoals and sketch pad. He was sprawled on his stomach across the king-size mattess, disheveled curls framing his strong face. Nicely muscled shoulders led to the smooth expanse of his back, the sheet tangled around his waist. She remembered feeling that skin against hers, touching, exploring. Remembered laughing as their eagerness led to some clumsy kisses and difficult zippers. They had eventually slowed down a little, feeling their way as they went, learning each other's bodies.

There was no problem with the mechanics; she was more than happy with those. It was his waking expectations she was more worried about. Jack was very single minded. When he pursued something, be it a scientific solution or a more personal agenda, he was relentless. His intensity toward her was overwhelming, not to mention a little frightening at times. She didn't want this to mean more to him than it was right now; an incredible moment and a prelude to what might come.

She wondered how long he would feel this strongly. Would it be a initial flare leading to a slower, enduring fire? Or would it simply be a flash fire, quickly burning itself out, leaving nothing but ashes? His faith in her, in them, was so strong that she could almost believe it in. The doubts she had were more in herself, if she was capable of loving him that strongly in return... if her insufficencies would lead to their eventual ruin.

She sighed softly, knowing she was over-thinking this. She never usually let sex get this much of a hold on her. But this, this night had been more than just sex. It had touched her heart as well. Had swept away much of the stress and pain of the day, leaving her feeling whole again.

The room was dim, moonlight filtering in through the gap in the heavy wool drapes. She felt the whisper of the sheets against her skin, smelled the scent of sweat and sex along with the ashes from the banked fire in the fireplace, ran her tongue across her swollen lips remembering the taste of his kisses, heard the slow rhythmic rise and fall of his breath.

His breath... almost taken away a few weeks ago. She had come so close to losing him forever. The thought of life now without him, without his smile or voice or presence, was unthinkable.

She knew then that there was no turning back from here. Whatever life had in store for her and Jack, she had committed to the journey. She was all-in, and she would take the consequences as they came. For now, she was just going to enjoy the ride for as long as it lasted.

As she watched him, his long lashes fluttered and his eyes opened. "Hey, Baby," he said sleepily. "You ok?"

He rolled over onto his back, his arm open to her. She took advantage and curled up next to him, her head on his chest. She could hear the warm thump-thump of his heart as his arm curved around her shoulders, pulling her close.

She tipped her head up, looked at the warmth in his eyes, and felt the answering joy in her heart. The heaviness of sleep was pulling at her finally, and she felt a peace that she hadn't known for a long time. "Never better," she answered with a slow, warm smile.

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End file.
